We Have Changed
by Corelli Sonatas
Summary: Sequel to "Not Enough": The same story of an ex-smuggler and a princess, and yet an entirely new take on their journey from Tatooine to Endor. All while realizing that they have both changed. ROTJ.
1. Chapter 1

_We have changed._

Han couldn't help thinking this as he washed himself clean of carbonite debris. Since the Corellian's friends had succeeded in rescuing him, the team was now supposed to have some time off. But Leia had mentioned the Rebel Alliance's find: a decommissioned Imperial Shuttle, the perfect opportunity for deactivating the shield of the second Death Star.

 _Perfect timing for me to return to consciousness,_ thought Han sarcastically. He rubbed his forehead and studied all the unfamiliar bruises on his face through the mirror. "Not that I'd turn the Alliance down, since their own sacrificed their lives for me." And he sincerely meant it.

Lando had promised Han a quick game of sabacc as soon as the latter had finished getting changed, and so – in no time at all – Han made for the central room on the _Falcon_.

What surprised him was Leia's presence among Lando and Chewie, all seated at the game table.

"There he is," Lando warmly greeted him.

"I thought I'd learn your smuggler addiction," Leia chimed in. "You're in for a dull game. I've never played competitively in my life."

"Ah, don't worry," reassured Han. "Being frozen for a few standard months is sure to have impaired my sabacc skills." The three of them chuckled.

Han took a seat next to Leia; during the entire game, he couldn't help but to glance in her direction. She appeared much more different than he'd thought – more mature, if for her that were possible – and he noticed the weariness of her eyes. On countless occasions, Leia caught him staring at her, but it comforted her: the familiar presence of a friend she'd lost for much too long...

When they'd finished, Chewie and Lando (the winner) dismissed themselves from the table and let Leia and Han be alone. Silence ensued as they put the sabacc deck away and straightened up the table.

Han realized that he hated the absence of sound. It evoked in him a distasteful memory of the last things he'd heard before the carbonite had consumed him: the horrible hissing and screaming machines as they'd caroled for him in his last conscious moments.

This reverie had caused Han's countenance to turn ominously distraught. Leia figured he was reliving his nightmare, yet she decided not to inquire about it. Glancing at the cleaned-up table, she sighed and wondered aloud, "Is it sad that I hadn't played a game since before the war?"

Snapping back into the present world, the Corellian shifted in his seat and looked into her eyes. "I don't think it doesn't make sense," he confessed, "but I guess the fact that we've been so damned busy fighting the Empire makes it sad." His lips formed a painful half-smile, but she was staring at his hands, which were scathed like she'd never seen them before. Suddenly Leia felt paralyzed by a resilient wave of tightness in her throat; she wanted to believe it was her imagination, but the tears stinging her eyes proved this was real.

 _If I'm feeling free to almost cry around him,_ she thought, _then we have changed. Both of us._

But Leia couldn't break completely. Her heart ached for his answers to her most thoughtful of questions. The woman blamed the agitating state of the war for her eagerness to hear stories and thoughts from him, but as she glanced unashamedly at him – fully concerned on her behalf – the words slipped from her mouth.

"Do you ever think about what you'd have done? If there'd been no war?"

"Yeah, definitely," Han returned, his deep tone of voice compelling Leia to listen further. "I'd have still been enslaved to the life of the smuggler, that much is easy to guess." The Corellian rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward. "Thanks to your message to Ben Kenobi, I was spared from an eternity in that hellish cycle." His eyes had been aimlessly scanning the table, but he now fixed them upon Leia's face, in recognition of the serious nature their conversation had attained. The Princess smiled at Han's humor.

"So you feel that you're better off the way things turned out?"

"Well, the carbonite was a low point," joked Han; Leia responded with an awkward grin, marveling nevertheless at his ability to make fun. But the witty man she'd known prior to their recent separation was clearly a more solemn version of the former. His sarcastic air disappeared when he asked her in all sincerity, "What about you?"

Leia stared at him for a moment, then breathed in the space-cold oxygen and noticed their surroundings. _This room is especially dim,_ she suddenly realized.

It took her a second to form words – the more she pondered her tampered-with life, the more sour she felt – but finally Leia gained composure. "When I consider a life unburdened by war, I imagine a life on Alderaan. My father would probably have found someone of royalty for me to marry, and by now..." Her imagination was inspiring chills through her body. "It frightens me to wonder about such a life," she confessed.

Han only nodded. Now he, too, wished to hear his companion unleash her every thought: mostly because she had never done so to him, and it fascinated Han to learn more about the Princess of Alderaan's life as royalty. He knew better than anyone else what hardships the non-royal life brought. Leia was soon shaking her head, overwhelmed by their discussion; at this, guilt sunk into Han's chest like toxic smoke. "Sorry, I...forget how some have lost much more than –"

"It's not as if my losses are greater than anyone else's," Leia interrupted. "After all..." The grief she had borne internally for years were finally spilling out in the form of heavy tears: yet another sign to Han that she trusted him enough to show weakness. Although Han offered his hand for hers, he knew she wouldn't accept it just yet; moments after the gesture, Leia proceeded – through a stifling of tears – to explain her sadness to Han.

"The true thing I mourn for is something I unknowingly gave away for too many years. I became a senator at fourteen, and before then I wouldn't miss a political meeting if it meant my only other option were to play with little kids."

"You wanted to follow the mature crowd, the people with power," offered Han.

The woman nodded. "They were the action-takers, the people who could make decisions and benefit the population. I looked up to them, I wanted to _be_ one of them. And Father was such a respected politician... When he praised me for my own political accomplishments and contributions... It meant everything.

"But in all that time, I was never a _child_. There were child-like activities I frequently enjoyed, and yet my mind wouldn't stop worrying about politics...about what steps Alderaan or the senate needed to take next. And there went my childhood years, without truly indulging in the joys of childhood itself."

If it had been possible for the dimness in the room to turn almost pitch-black, this had transpired during Leia's speech. With such an absence of visibility, she was convinced she'd been talking to the room, to the receptive atmosphere of the _Falcon_. And then there was silent Han, having absorbed the woman's honest tale enough to be reminded about his own lack of childhood. His parents hadn't been a part of that picture, and without Chewie and the life he had found on Kashyyyk, Solo knew even his measly success as a smuggler wouldn't have existed if he hadn't had that luck.

Nerves got the best of Han; he couldn't respond – had no clue how to respond – leaving silence to dwell peacefully in their midst. Finally, the idea emerged in Leia's mind that she had made a mistake in confiding in her friend. "Forgive me if that was something you didn't want to hear," she apologized.

Han shook his head. "To lose something that precious, and to talk about it – that requires no forgiveness," the Corellian pointed out gently. What little light they had in the room shone upon Leia's face right now, and he couldn't help but to remember her heartfelt attempts at consoling him on Bespin, before their separation. "I may not know exactly how you feel about losing your formative years, but I do wish my younger days had been more innocent." He rubbed his forehead, quickly piecing together the memories he desired to share with her.

After several minutes of describing the abandonment, loneliness, and final refuge on Kashyyyk among the Wookiees, Han figured it was time to retire for the night. "I've kept you from getting some much-needed sleep -"

"No, you haven't," Leia protested. "I wouldn't have been able to sleep. But you should; today must have felt like an extension of that day on Bespin."

"In some ways, yes," admitted Han. She hadn't needed to explain the implication of _that day,_ and this communication (or lack thereof) comforted Han. Leia's face was now hardly visible, but her steady breathing was hard to miss among their respectful quietude. Smiling only slightly, Solo added with humor, "The second half of the day proved itself far more rewarding." That got a chuckle out of Leia.

"Speaking of which," she began, "did Lando tell you what happened to Jabba?"

"No. What happened? Did he sink into the Sarlacc pit with the rest of his scum and slime?"

Leia suddenly acted out what had been her victory earlier. Her right hand cupped around her throat, she clenched her left fist and pretended to pull on the restraint of her other hand.

"You're lying." Han couldn't believe her. He knew she had it in her – there was no doubt about her strength – but this was too perfect to be real. When Leia finished her demonstration and burst into laughter, Solo was beside himself. "Damn it, Leia! How could I have missed that? Of all days to have temporary blindness..."

Once their chairs were empty and gently pushed back into the game table, Han drew closer to his friend and gestured for an embrace. The Princess obliged without hesitation.

It was a brief moment, but as soon as they parted Han made sure to express his gratitude for Leia's sacrifices. "I'm not sure how I'll properly thank you for the pain you endured today. Well, for _any_ hell you went through to get me rescued."

"Worth every minute," commented the other happily, albeit the exhaustion had crept into her voice. Han put an arm on her shoulder – he had never truly recognized his comparably towering height until this had happened – and answered with the subtlest flavor of wit, "Glad to hear it. Now try to get some rest."


	2. Chapter 2

_We have changed._

The rustling of tree leaves and the low hums of Ewok music should have calmed the Princess at such a time. Instead, it hurt her, whose yearning for post-war peace had sprung her presently into the comforting arms of General Han Solo. In their moment of silence they were like rock: unwavering, uninterested in the inevitable loss and bereavement that would meet them in the morning. Leia couldn't explain the nature of their present closeness, save for the fact that she'd told Han to "hold her" and that he had complied, perhaps slightly out of guilt.

Han choked back an apology. His cautious act caught Leia's attention; it was impossible for her, pressed up against his chest, to miss the reverberation of his heartbeat – or even the simple contraction and release of his throat muscles reacting to his swift change of mind. Right now, nothing could encourage her disengagement from the warmth Solo provided to her. It seemed miraculous that he allowed her the pure liberty of an embrace.

Eyes shut to the forest surrounding them, Han began to recognize his own transformation since his conversation with Leia on the _Falcon_. What bothered him now, with the Princess' head positioned just underneath his own, was the forthcoming expiration of their moment. Both of them were vulnerable; they were more alive than they'd ever dared to be with one another. _I've never seen this side of her,_ Han thought of Leia. _We must be far beyond exhaustion -_

Suddenly Leia lifted her head away from Han's chest, and Solo took this as a gesture for them to part.

"What's the matter?"

Han quickly discovered that the voice had come from directly below him; she hadn't left his embrace after all. "No-nothing," he stammered, shocked and embarrassed beyond comprehension. _Damn it, I ruined a moment that even she didn't want to end so soon._ But it was too late to continue in what had been the most intimate two minutes of their time together; Han unwrapped his arms from her back apologetically. As he let her go, the fabric from her dress left his hands feeling tingly and uncomfortable.

Neither of them made eye contact with the other. Han quickly (albeit awkwardly) resorted to fascinating himself with the elevation at which he stood on the bridge. He almost tuned out Leia whispering "thank you" to him.

When Han turned to face her, the Princess felt obliged to tell him briefly what had happened between her and Luke. His somber-gray eyes merely stared at her, unfeeling and yet lovingly concerned; it frightened Leia to realize the latter.

"Luke had to leave. He's…off to confront Vader."

"Oh."

 _Just "oh,"_ thought Leia bitterly. She wondered whether it would help to enlighten him about her relation to the Jedi, but the notion quickly sounded absurd. _Han's had enough shocking incidents lately. The last thing he needs is the knowledge that Luke and I were separated at birth._

The irony of this was that Han's perception of Leia's announcement only confirmed in his mind that she and Luke had an attraction to one another. For the first time in his life, the Corellian felt genuinely jealous and incomprehensibly disabled. _She's bound to someone else,_ he believed; and by "bound" he meant through love.

Leia noticed the gap in their conversation and turned toward the hut from which she had come. Abashed by his foolish, one-word reply, Han rubbed his temples and glared at the ground. _Of course she's with Luke and not with me. I'm too busy being difficult in conversation._

By the time he had resolved to catch her before she'd gone, Leia had already disappeared into the lively Ewok-zone that Han was beginning to loathe. He cursed under his breath, then quietly slipped into the hut, seeking her.

…

"Commander, a word, please."

"What is it?" Leia had practically passed by the alliance member, whom she now realized (albeit last-minute) was referring to her. _Commander,_ she remembered, _my title._ The more her mind bored into the concept of her high authoritative position, the more ironic her life felt.

 _What_ can _I control? Not my emotions, not even whom my father is –_

"Um, might I call you 'Princess Leia'?" the awkward young soldier questioned. Leia realized that she had been staring aimlessly at the wall behind the man. "Oh – yes," she stuttered. The humid hut was still bustling with the diminutive natives, even though it was getting late. As discreetly as possible, the woman wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Princess Leia," recommenced the other, "we've calculated that only about ten soldiers can accompany you and General Solo at the bunker. All others will surround the general vicinity. The Ewoks have mapped out defense mechanisms, which they will guard until it is time to strike."

"And has General Solo been updated on this installment?" wondered Leia, being unable to ponder the fact that they would be co-commanding a mission in less than eight standard hours. The soldier shook his head.

"No, he hasn't; but I wondered if you would deliver the news to him…" He leaned in toward Leia and whispered, "The rest of our men have had too much to drink, and since I have no rank, I would feel incompetent to – oh, here's General Solo now."

Leia's eyes widened at this last remark. The young soldier nodded reverently at Solo, then shied away before the Princess could grit her teeth and whisper, "Stay."

"What did the kid want?"

Turning abruptly (so much so that it shocked Han), she answered him, "Nothing, just… There have been some updates to tomorrow's plan of action. Looks like most of our troops will be stationed in the forests surrounding the bunker. We'll have only about ten with us."

Solo nodded. Finally he had found her – _damned fast walker she is,_ he thought, as he had traveled two flights of stairs and had gone in and out of four more huts – but his stomach churned with guilt. He felt completely responsible for her premature exit just twenty minutes ago, and it dawned on him what opportunity he had squandered in her presence. It wasn't about hurting her feelings, he reminded himself; it was about getting things off of his chest, as they'd both done with little shame on the _Falcon_.

Once they'd stood in five seconds of dead air, Leia pressed him, "So? Will you be retiring for the night?"

"Eventually," Han answered her, rolling his eyes. Leia humored him, grinning with all the enthusiasm she could muster. But it was difficult – and painful, although she couldn't believe it – for her to be among him once again.

"Actually," he continued, making perfect eye-contact with the Princess for the first time since their previous conversation, "something you said the other day stuck with me, and… First, I need to apologize –"

"Han," interrupted Leia, shrugging off his words with an air of disapproval. "There's an important mission tomorrow, and I'd hate to ruin things before we go out tomorrow and fight another hellish battle."

"Ruin?" exclaimed Han. "Ruin what things? Us? What about that talk on my ship, huh? It meant something to me, and I thought it had the same value for you –"

"Don't quote me right now, I'm running on hardly any sleep," retorted Leia, the passion kindling in her every word. _Great, we're reliving the good old days,_ she realized sourly. "And that night on your ship, as you call it, happened to be one of the most relaxing nights of my life since Alderaan's oblivion. So please don't accuse me of having no heart."

By this point, Han and Leia weren't the only ones on-edge; C-3PO muttered "Oh, dear" in the background, and whatever Ewok chatter had endured during the midnight celebrations had almost ceased. Leia's chest pounded. The tears wouldn't hold for much longer.

Managing a tone with significantly less ferocity, Han defended himself. "I didn't accuse you of having no feelings; I…"

It was over for Han. His brain exhausted his every negative notion: _No chance of reconciliation from here. We're doomed to face the pit of hell tomorrow._

After General Solo had evacuated the hut, the party seemed to reboot without difficulty. And then there was Leia, crushed beyond measure; her hope had, after all, practically halted in its tracks after Han had let go of her on the bridge.


	3. Chapter 3

Leia arrived at the cabin with just as much dread as she'd felt while under duress on the Death Star. The entire situation, as she saw it, was a road to death: the possible end of a war, a very probable expiration of her life, Luke's suicidal march to Vader…

Upon entering what surprised her (only slightly) to be an empty cabin, Leia wilted face-first onto the cot. She had surrendered to herself. It was no longer a fight for the now-despairing Alderaan Princess; she had lost everything throughout this war, and Han's striking rejection of her earlier had terminated all hope she had thus preserved.

Until, almost immediately, she detected a voice coming from outside the entryway. The unknown person was obviously unaware that the cabin – although without doors – had a thick set of streamers covering the entrance. Still, the person continued in his speech. For the first time since her farewell to Luke on the bridge, the woman felt the Force's gentle presence surrounding her; and instantly she knew: _It's Han._

The Corellian had almost concluded his message when Leia hastily drew open the curtain. "Oh," Han exclaimed, at once puzzled and fascinated by how receptive she appeared before him. "Wasn't sure if you wanted to see me. I sure as hell don't deserve you…your time, I mean."

"You're wrong."

Accepting her accusation without a thought, Han conceded: "And I'm sorry. There's nothing else I can say. I've been far from considerate, and –"

"No," Leia cut in, with an entirely new somberness in her tone. She exited the cabin and allowed the streamers to fall freely behind her. The dark of night had fallen upon the shadowy forest, rendering an enigmatic mood upon them.

"We don't need to do this," continued the Princess gravely. Han's body almost began to tremble as she reached for his arm. "Do what?" he pressed.

"Be…like _this_ with each other. Uncomfortable, always playing offense and defense." Leia depressed her grasp of his right arm, hoping to avert his devout attention upon her eyes. It frightened her a little, to be hypocritically uneasy with their closeness even though she had instigated it. But Han's gaze was locked, and her words suddenly made sense to his ears.

"I know," he answered. "There are more important things to be worried about at a time like this."

Leia lifted her head to look at him. "Do you think we have a chance tomorrow?"

"Technically it's today," Han reminded her with his patent half-grin; the woman remained frozen for another minute. _Are we only hours away from finishing the mission?_ she wondered. "Forgive me – today," she corrected herself.

Solo shook his head sadly. "See, this is our mistake. We hesitate and feel guilty for no reason –"

"Oh, Han." Now Leia was profusely sentimental: she yearned for the peacefulness of his embrace, the absence of words. _Enough words have been exchanged between us. We've been avoiding non-verbal contact for years on end._ Composing herself to speak was impossible without the presence of moisture in her eyes. "It's time we stopped discounting the truth that we're altered people. Arguing and fighting will continue, no doubt, but haven't we _said_ enough?" The Princess eagerly waited for Han to move his lips. Seconds passed without a word.

Finally he drew breath: "What you said on Bespin… I knew you had changed. And the way those words made me feel… convinced me that I'd changed, too."

Relief and elation filled Leia with every word of his confession. As her countenance began to break, Han could only see her strength and beauty unfold. _I was wrong to elevate her so highly in my mind. She is no less stubborn or frustrated or exhausted than I am._ He brushed her cheek with the outside of his hand; no words were exchanged, much to Leia's gratification.

For several minutes they remained in an embrace, sharing the amenity of their powerlessness. Han tried not to think of Luke, whom he was still convinced Leia more than adored. But something told him the morning would transform their lives even more, and Solo decided quietly that the present time mattered more to him. _I love her,_ his mind repeated. _I love her. And if something were to happen to her…_

When he and the Princess had disengaged, Han whispered in a witty tone, "Thanks to my great memory, I've forgotten where the hell my cabin is." Leia chuckled at this, and for a brief moment Han leant down to touch his lips to hers. "I should be going. Given the size of this village –"

"Can I join you?"

Upon hearing Leia's proposal, the Corellian frowned. "Are you sure?"

Persistent though she was, the Princess insisted upon accompanying him. "Let's find your cabin. What have I got to lose, a few hours?"

The certainty in Leia's voice reminded Han of why he had become so fond of her. "Well," he started, lips pursed so as to suppress a grin, "I guess I can't argue with that."

"No, you can't." Leia beamed at him, appreciating his acceptance of defeat. She was going to come with him, and he hadn't the heart to refuse her. Han smiled and offered the woman his arm, onto which she locked her own; he stared out into the dimly-lit village, feeling the gentle breeze sweep across his face. Then, turning toward his accompaniment – grasping just how precious this interval of tranquility and camaraderie was between them, recognizing that such a moment might never transpire again – Solo whispered softly into the open air:

"May the Force be with us."

* * *

 **THE END**


End file.
